


Sweet Things

by VivatMusa



Series: Sweet Things [1]
Category: Harvest Moon: Animal Parade
Genre: Comforts, F/M, Friendship, Romance up to interpretation, break-ups
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 11:00:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3444647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VivatMusa/pseuds/VivatMusa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was just another night for Maya. Everything was going to plan...until a sudden visitor shows up unannounced. With a banana-split sundae to keep them company, Maya and the visitor will learn how to just enjoy the sweet things in life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Things

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Harvest Moon or its characters. I also don't own any of the sayings in this story. They were ones I picked up over the years, but I honestly don't remember who originally wrote them. All credit goes to whoever did!

"Maya, sweetie? Can you be a doll and finish closing up, please?" Kathy said.

Deserting her position by the seating area, Kathy made her way to the Brass Bar's kitchen. Her cowgirl boots clicked noisily on the stone flooring; the sound seemed amplified in the wide, deserted area. It was a little past midnight, and the bar was closing a few hours early since Hayden was sick that day. Chase, the cook, and all the patrons were already long gone, leaving Kathy and Maya responsible for closing the bar that night.

The sterile scent of dish soap wafted from the next room. Maya was standing in front of the kitchen's sink, wearing pink rubber gloves that reached to her elbows. The sink was overflowing with foamy bubbles and sudsy water. Holding a sponge, the waitress's hand moved in a rhythmic motion around and around the surface of a plate. A towering stack of drying dishes rested on the counter beside her.

"I'm finished for the night." Kathy gave an exhausted sigh. "If I clean one more freakin' table, my fingers will never recover from this—this prune condition!" The girl wiggled her fingers in front of her co-worker's eyes to prove her point. "See? The skin is all pruney!"

"I don't think that 'pruney' is a word," Maya said with a small giggle, peering at the girl's outstretched hand. "And your fingers seem fine to me."

"Are you kidding?" Kathy gasped, raising her hand to her face. "They're as wrinkled as a used napkin! It will take all night to recover, and I can't go out with Owen tomorrow looking like this!"

Maya's eyebrow scrunched in confusion. "Does it really take all night?"

"Well, no," the cowgirl admitted hesitantly, "but a girl's gotta look her best—especially when she's on a date with an awesome guy!"

Another date, huh? Maya thought. About a season ago, she had noticed a sudden change in her coworker's behavior. Before Kathy would never have cared if her skin was a little wrinkly from washing tables, but lately she's been worrying more and more about her appearance. Coincidentally, that was also around the same time when she and Owen had become a couple (though Kathy wouldn't go into great detail, she mentioned it started after some sort of horse race).

Kathy raised her hands as if in prayer, looking towards Maya with a pleading expression. "Pleeease, can you finish closing up? I'll make your favorite ice cream this weekend in exchange, promise!"

The girl laughed good-humoredly. "Alright, alright. You already knew that I was going to say yes, anyways."

"Yay, you're the best!" Kathy gave the waitress a quick hug before hurrying to the doorway.

"Make sure to tell your dad that I hope he feels better!" Maya called after her.

"Shall do! Thanks again, hon!" The door made a muffled thump, announcing the girl's departure. As the night wore on and the villagers of Castanet slept, Maya stayed at the empty bar with only her thoughts and a mound of dishes to keep her company. However, it didn't take long for that to change.

Once all of the dirty dishes were washed, Maya slipped off her rubber gloves and slapped them onto the counter's surface. All was quiet as she hummed a soft tune under her breath, reaching forward on her tiptoes to put the dried dishes in the overhead cabinet. The delicious smell of the food leftover from that night wafted from the refrigerator, making her stomach rumble. When she was finished, maybe she could sneak a few bites of that yummy pie…Ooh, or maybe that vanilla ice cream that Chase made. Maya suddenly winced. The thought of the cook made her chest feel oddly tight, as if a great weight was pressing down on her, sucking the breath out.

Ding!

The girl's contemplations were interrupted when the bell hanging over the bar's doorway rang in a high-pitched note. Even though the outside sign by the entrance read closed, the building's door was only locked once the last person was leaving (that person being Maya that night). So, technically, anyone could come in.

"Sorry, but we're closed for the night!" Maya automatically said, expecting to see one of the townsfolk when she turned around.

A breath hitched in her throat when she saw the intruder.

"I need help," the man said.

Luke staggered from the doorway, as if unsure of his own two feet. The door banged against the wall before slamming shut behind him. A draft managed to escape as the entrance way closed, blowing in several stray leaves and the carpenter's fresh scent of sawdust and forest.

Maya watched in astonishment as Luke stumbled to the closest table and collapsed into the chair. A piercing noise disturbed the previously quiet bar when the chair's legs scraped against the floor. The carpenter wasn't very big for his age—not like Owen—but the seat seemed to be almost swallowed up from underneath his slumped body and splayed out limbs. Luke immediately closed his eyes with a sigh and let his head fall back wearily, as if too tired to carry whatever burden he had for a second longer.

For a moment, Maya stood in the kitchen, torn between what to do. Technically, the bar was supposed to be closed for the night. Not to mention that Hayden would be infuriated that a non-employee was in his bars after hours without proper (in other words, his) supervision. But then one look at the obviously distressed villager tugged at Maya's heartstrings, outweighing the potential consequences. (Besides, Kathy could sweet-talk her father later.)

Maya raced towards the carpenter, worry written in her expression. "Luke, what happened? Are you okay?"

Still not opening his eyes, Luke just groaned before raising a hand into the air. "Drink first, talk after."

Though she pursed her lips reluctantly, the waitress hurried back to the kitchen. Thirty seconds had barely passed before a tall glass was slammed against the table's surface. At the abrupt noise, Luke opened his eyes—more out of curiosity than from surprise—and stared at the drink. Crushed ice cubes floated at the surface in the dark, fizzing liquid, pushing the bendy-straw around the glass.

"When I said a drink, I sort of meant a cocktail—not a coke."

"Diet coke," Maya amended, as if the difference was important.

Luke didn't know whether to roll his eyes or chuckle. "Right. Diet coke."

"Yep. Now drink your yummy soda."

"Can't I have a cockt—"

Maya shook her head before he could finish. "Nope! No alcohol until you tell me what's wrong."

The carpenter gave a theatrical sigh before pulling the drink closer and taking a deliberate sip. "So pushy," he said after swallowing. The beginning of a smile was showing on his face.

"I am not pushy," Maya said, almost in a pout. "Kathy is pushy. I'm just…persuasive. There is a very big difference. One is more bossy and kinda scary, while the other is—wait, what were we talking about?"

Maya frowned at the carpenter, who was clearly trying not to laugh. "Ooh, I see what you're trying to do, Mr. Sneakster. Distracting me won't work…well, now it won't. So you might as well tell me what's going on."

Luke quirked an eyebrow as the waitress sat in the seat opposite of him, making it clear she had no intention of leaving anytime soon. "Uh huh. Not pushy in the slightest."

"Start talking, bub."

"Well, let's see… Today I woke up at six, and then I polished my axe, and then I pulled an extreme prank on Bo, and then I ate a dozen pancakes, and then I played some ball with Chief, and then Pops got mad at me for something—it might be because Owen and I made a flag from his favorite nightgown—and then—"

"Luke," Maya interrupted.

"Yeah?"

"Please be serious."

"Aw, you're no fun." The carpenter's expression turned to a mock pout. "Why doesn't Auntie Maya want to play?"

"Because Auntie Maya was interrupted from her work when a certain person barged into the bar, demanding help and a drink."

The carpenter squared his shoulders indignantly. "I did not barge. I entered the room with deliberateness."

Maya snorted.

"Fine," Luke said, allowing a smirk. "I'll admit that I barge, if you admit that you're pushy."

"Fair enough," agreed Maya. "So now will you tell me what's wrong?"

He sighed in defeat, slumping further into the chair. "Um…I sort of got into a fight."

"Goddess, not again! How badly is Gill hurt?"

"Hey, that was one time! And I didn't even lay a finger on him! He took off running as soon as I raised my fist. Snotty coward..." Luke leaned back in his chair until only two of the four legs were touching the ground and his boots were resting on the table's surface. Maya pointedly cleared her throat and the carpenter sheepishly set his feet back down. "Eh, anyways, it wasn't that type of fighting this time—no one got hurt, and it wasn't about Gill."

"Then what happened?" Maya asked. "Who were you mad at?"

The carpenter scratched at his bandana before hesitantly answering. "Selena and I had a little…disagreement."

Maya frowned. A sudden image of a woman with an exotic mane of red hair and a flirtatious, haughty gaze rose up in her mind. Though the waitress never truly disliked anyone, she couldn't say that she enjoyed the dancer's company. It came as a surprise when she heard a few seasons ago that Luke and Selena were dating. Those two were as opposite as day and night. It seemed only natural that a fight would occur. Luke only proved that theory further when he spoke.

"We haven't been getting along lately," the carpenter said, a tinge of bitterness hardening his tone. "Each day we keep on having fights that just become worse and worse. And today, everything seemed to explode. We were yelling for hours and finally…we just broke up."

Maya gasped. Her eyebrows crinkled in concern when she asked, "Is there any way I can help?" The waitress didn't have a lot of boyfriend-girlfriend experience, but maybe she could find some way to be of use.

Luke gave a dry laugh. "Depends. I don't suppose you have a manual on How to Deal with Your Ex-Girlfriend 101, do you?"

"Nope, but I have something better." With a large grin, Maya suddenly stood up from her seat and raced towards the kitchen.

"Hey, are you deserting me?" Luke leaned over the back of his chair, and saw that Maya had the refrigerator door open and was reaching into it.

"Not deserting—desserting!" The waitress had to balance on her tiptoes to reach the refrigerator's top shelf. Her hands clasped the chilled bowl and she pulled it down. Then she closed the refrigerator's door with a dull thump, snatched two pairs of spoons from a drawer, and returned to where Luke was waiting.

The carpenter gave an appreciative whistle when Maya placed the bowl on the table. "I could get used to desserting."

The bowl was filled with generous scoops of vanilla ice cream, and thick streams of chocolate sauce that were leisurely pooling down the sides. Placed in the center of the mounds of ice cream was a ripe banana that was split down the middle. A single, bright red cherry rested on top, adding a happy flash of color. Even from a distance the coolness of the dessert radiated from the bowl. Luke could already feel his mouth watering.

"What are you waiting for?" Maya waved her spoon at the boy in invitation. "Dig in."

Luke grinned as he grabbed the other spoon. He reached to pluck the cherry, but it disappeared in a blink of an eye. "Hey!" Luke looked up at the waitress. "That's not fair. I wanted that!"

Maya unhurriedly chewed the fruit, secretly enjoying the carpenter's petulant glares. "All's fair in love and food," she said in a singsong voice.

The mature carpenter responded by sticking out his tongue. "Just leave the banana to me."

Luke almost hummed in pleasure at the mellow taste of the banana mixed into the creaminess of the ice cream; the sauce added a rich, smooth texture that sent his taste buds dancing. Chocolate and bananas—what could be better? "So," he said through a full mouth, not bothering to swallow before speaking, "why the deluxe treatment?"

Maya shrugged nonchalantly. Her spoon caught a dripping stream of chocolate sauce before it could reach the bottom of the dish. "A break up usually leads to an ice cream binge. That, and you look like you need the yum."

"Yum?"

"Yum." She repeated, licking the chocolate covered spoon like it was a lollipop. "You know, there's a saying that I like to live by."

Luke's expression became anxious. "Please tell me it's not a long saying. I hate memorizing long ones."

"Don't worry. It's really short."

The carpenter let out a sigh of relief. "Whew, that's good. Tell me the saying, then."

"When life does not seem sweet," Maya lowered her voice dramatically, "eat sweet things."

Luke's shoulders shook as he laughed. "I like that one. Eat sweet things, heh."

The waitress hummed in agreement. The ice cream was beginning to send goose bumps over her arms. "It's even better when Chase sweetens the deal."

There was a choking sound from the other side of the table. Maya glanced up from her dessert and saw that Luke was trying to hold back a snigger. "What? What did I say?"

The carpenter tried to look serious. It wasn't working very well. "'Sweeten the deal'. That sounds a bit, eh…you know…"

Luke never thought that a person's face could turn so red. "That's not—the food—I only meant—" Maya sputtered helplessly, growing more frantic by the second.

"It's okay," he reassured, though his yellow eyes still seemed to dance with mirth. "It's kinda cute when you get all flustered like that."

If it was possible, Maya's face seemed to become even redder. Instead of sputtering, her mouth just gaped open like a fish. A trickle of melted ice cream from her spoon dripped into the dish.

Luke raised his hands in the air defensively. "Kidding, kidding!"

He watched with amusement as the redness slowly drained from the waitress's face. It took about a minute until her skin tone returned to a more normal (if not a little pink) hue. "You. Are. A. Meanie," she sounded out numbly.

Luke raised a hand to his hairline and made a tilting gesture as if he was tipping an imaginary hat. "Mr. Meanie, at your service."

Maya stuck out her tongue, which only caused him to laugh even harder. Feeling less frazzled, she began to dig into her share of the ice cream again—only to be interrupted once again by Luke. "So what's between you and Chase, anyways?"

The waitress almost dropped her spoon in shock. "Um…eh, don't know what you mean."

"Mayaaa…" he crooned knowingly.

"Fine," she relented with a sigh; it never took much to persuade her. "He doesn't…like me like that."

"Even after you baked him that cake?"

Maya gasped, hands flying to her mouth in embarrassment. "How do you know that?!"

"Kathy knows everything." His spoon swiped casually into the banana. "You want to know what I would do?"

"No."

"I would forget about him," he said, ignoring her answer. "If the idiot can't appreciate an extreme gift—one that's also made from food—then he can't appreciate an awesome girl. Seriously! I would've gobbled up that cake in a second!"

Maya shook her head stubbornly. "You didn't see my cake—I doubt it was even edible. Anyways, you don't understand Chase. He's not like that. He's more…" she searched for the right words, "stoic when it comes to people. He doesn't really know how to be around others, so he acts guarded. But when he cooks, his eyes just light up with such zest and life— you can't help but be fascinated while you watch." The dazed look in Maya's eyes cleared abruptly. A faint blush covered her cheeks as she realized that she had just declared her observations of the cook out loud. "Oh, you're going to make fun of me, aren't you?"

For once, Luke's expression was uncharacteristically serious as he shook his head. "No. I'm not."

"You're not?" Maya repeated uncertainly.

"Nope. Honestly," he said breathlessly, "I can get where you're coming from. Selena is a lot like that, too. Instead of being silent and distant like Chase is, she acts more…flippant (Kathy taught me that word), but just as distant. But then it's almost like she's a different person when she's dancing. Something just lights up in her eyes…kind of like what happens to me when I'm out in the forest.

"You love each other," Maya said thoughtfully.

Luke gave a weak, dry laugh. "I wouldn't go that far. When I first met her, I knew immediately that I would give her anything if she just asked for it. But…she's different. We've been dating for a bit now, and I think she's only…infatuated, for lack of a better word."

He blinked. "Goddess, I sound like a teenage girl. Oh, that's bad."

Maya smirked wryly. "That's what eating ice cream does to you—turn you into a weeping female."

"I need some manly alcohol to recover from this," Luke grumbled, pulling his diet coke towards him. "I guess this will do for now."

As the carpenter took a thirsty sip from his soda, Maya suddenly blurted out, "But what's the limit?"

Luke sat the cup back down and glanced at the girl. "Huh? What do you mean?"

"You know, the limit," she explained persistently. "When do you reach your limit and just give up? I mean, do you really want to fight so hard for somebody—somebody who you would give everything to without a second thought—just for the person to be infatuated? I don't know, but that just doesn't sound like love to me." Maya slowly shook her head, pursing her lip. She looked very downcast, as if trying to solve a problem that she knew had no right answer.

"I'm not sure, May," Luke said, slipping into his childhood habit of calling her by a nickname. "Lately I've been wondering about the same thing. If I should just stop trailing after her and try something else, or keep holding on in case one day she feels the same way."

"But how long will you wait?" mused the waitress.

There was no answer to that.

There was a long moment of silent as the two friends thought about their dilemmas. Each of them struggled with a hopeless battle that continued in an endless cycle—one that seemed only to take and never give.

The carpenter was the first to break the silence (as always). "I have a proposition," Luke blurted out.

Maya looked at him warily. "Oh?"

"You and I are both love-struck morons who aren't getting anywhere, right?"

"You're the moron. I'm just love-struck."

Luke waved away the comment; a large, ecstatic grin was starting to grow on his face. "My point is that we're both getting nowhere with the ones we like."

"Sure…" she agreed hesitantly.

"Well, why don't we make a resolution?" He leaned forward in his seat as if that would somehow get his words out faster.

"A resolution of what, exactly?"

"Duh!" he said. "We'll make resolutions to ourselves that we'll take a little break from this stupid soap opera. Just think about it: you'll try not to crush so hard on Chase, and I'll try the same with Selena. We'll give it, say, a season to see if anything changes."

"I don't know…" Maya said doubtfully. "Emotions don't work that way: you can't just tell yourself that you don't like someone, and expect a difference the next day."

"Come on," Luke urged. "I'm not saying that we'll be mean to them; we just won't try so hard to get their attention. Our only goal will be to step back a bit and find our own little sweetness. You know, like those old chick saying, 'don't reach for the moon' and 'sit and smell the roses', or whatever. Besides," his tone sounded slightly nervous now, "maybe we'll find someone else…maybe someone who we can eat ice cream with."

Maya still had her doubts, but Luke looked at her with that puppy-dog expression. "Please," he begged, as if the look on his face wasn't already enough to crush her will to dust. In an attempt to avoid the carpenter's pleading gaze, the waitress looked down at the bowl that sat between them. The only evidence that it had contained food was a shimmer of melted vanilla that was dripping over the edge.

Maya glanced up at Luke. "We're going to need more ice cream if we're going to do this."

Luke grinned excitedly, his eyes lighting up. "You mean…?"

"Sweet things first," she instructed, "resolution after."

Yelling the word 'extreme' at the top of his lungs, the carpenter shot up from his seat and raced to the kitchen.

**Author's Note:**

> Eh…my first idea was just Luke feeling bad and Maya telling him that sweet saying…but then this happened. I have two words: SPONTANEOUS. WRITING.
> 
> I didn't remember until about halfway during this story that, in the game, Maya actually didn't work at the bar, but at her parent's inn. Oops…for the sake of me not having to rewrite this all over again, can you please just pretend that she's, like, doing a part-time job or helping Kathy with the bar? Sorry for that little mishap. I'll try to be better next time! Oh, so how did you guys like my little visitor twist? ;)


End file.
